


Boomerang

by thyrza



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Earth-TRN123, Fluff and Smut, M/M, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-01-24 23:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1620275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thyrza/pseuds/thyrza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What goes around comes around: Clint's past comes back to haunt him, and Coulson tries to help him deal with the aftermath. (PWP, set after episode 1x24, "Crime and Circuses.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boomerang

**Author's Note:**

  * For [exfatalist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exfatalist/gifts).



> This story is intended to take place in the same continuity as my Steve/Tony-centric AA series [Assemble, Disassemble, Reassemble](http://archiveofourown.org/series/78991), but you do not need to read it to read this. This story does, however, contain a very brief reference to Steve/Tony because of the series.
> 
> This takes place after episode 1x24, "Crime and Circuses," and also ties the AA universe in with that of Ultimate Spider-Man. If you need more detailed notes/an episode recap, feel free to skip to the end notes (which contain spoilers).

 

 

* * *

 

 

The Circus of Crime was a blast from the past that Clint Barton could have easily done without. Even after the tricarrier arrived way too late to the party, Clint couldn't summon up the energy to make a snarky remark. Instead he watched, in stony silence, while the prisoners were marched all the way to the brig. He told himself he would sleep better, knowing Ringmaster and his cronies were all back behind bars where they belonged, but Clint knew it was a lie.

Facing the other Avengers again in the debrief was a challenge, and Clint gave much of the credit for the success of the night to Sam for persisting in following him. Everyone who had been under mind control had little to report on, aside from the series of events that led them there. As soon as the meeting let out, Clint was up from his seat and heading to the door, the other Avengers filing out after him.

"So," Tony said. "Circus of Crime -"

Clint turned, cutting off Tony with a glare. "Can it, Stark. I'm not in the mood."

"Clint," Steve began, but Clint ignored him, stalking off down the corridor.

Space - or at least separation from his team - was a priority for Clint right now, and he wanted to get the hell out of this costume he never thought he would have cause to wear again. He knew that the others were likely to be concerned about his decision to keep things from them, but it wasn't like he was the only one with a checkered past. Stark used to be just a few steps away from a bad guy, Natasha could fill books with her secrets, and even squeaky-clean Captain America wasn't exactly forthcoming with things that could concern the team, like the fact that he and Stark were fucking.

Clint appreciated his team a hell of a lot more than any of them probably gave him credit for, mostly because he tried to brush off any suggestion of closeness, not wanting a repeat of the Circus. It was ridiculous, of course, trying not to get attached; they were not just his colleagues by now, but genuinely his friends.

By the time Clint reached his seldom used tricarrier quarters, his chest was tight with guilt for having blown them off. They would be okay, in the end; he just needed some time to himself.

Of course, time to himself was sort of hard to achieve when Phil Coulson was standing in his room.

Clint startled, jumping in a fashion that was completely undignified for a SHIELD agent and Avenger. "Jesus, Phil! Don't you knock?"

Coulson raised an eyebrow. "I did knock," he said. "You weren't here yet."

Ignoring the logic in that, Clint stepped further inside and let the door whoosh shut behind him. "Shouldn't you be back in Midtown doing ... whatever it is high school principals do?"

"It's Saturday."

"Right." Clint shook his head and went to the tiny closet by his bunk, which held an extra pair of boots, a spare Hawkeye uniform, and a set of SHIELD-branded gym clothes. Clint went for the sweats and t-shirt, tossing them onto the bed.

Coulson was sizing him up with a contemplative look that Clint didn't like at all. "You know," he said. "That costume brings back a lot of memories."

Of course it did. Clint had been wearing it - well, one just like it - when the Circus of Crime was picked up by SHIELD the first time around. Coulson had been a far more junior agent then, fresh out of grad school; his rule-abiding attitude had him immediately butting heads with the eighteen year old delinquent that Clint was at the time.

"Not all of them good," Clint said.

Coulson smiled. "Not all of them bad, either."

"Is this some kind of ..." Clint paused, gesturing vaguely. "... 'recapturing our youth' thing? Because, last time I checked, you were dating some kid's _aunt_."

Coulson raised an eyebrow at that, and Clint had to admit - if only to himself - that dating someone's aunt wasn't exactly the equivalent of dating a _grandmother_ or something. Still, quite a few years had gone by since Clint first joined SHIELD, so he could be forgiven feeling his age right now.

Clint huffed, peeling out of the top of the costume when Coulson didn't respond. "Because, I mean, I sure as hell _feel_ like a fossil lately, having my past come back to bite me in the ass, and getting rescued by some eighteen-year-old genius kid."

"Agent Wilson _is_ very good for his age," Coulson answered diplomatically. "But then, so were you."

Clint tossed the top of the Trickshot costume onto the floor. "Why are you here, Phil?"

Here, Coulson hesitated for the first time. "I thought you might like to talk about it."

"Well, I don't. That was a mortifying episode from my past, and I'm ready to start getting it behind me - _again_." Clint tugged off Trickshot's ill-fitting boots - they were a size or two too small and had been squeezing his toes - and tried not to sound as irritated as he felt.

Coulson stepped closer to Clint, rather than leaving, and didn't bother looking away as Clint shucked the brightly colored pants; it wasn't anything he hadn't already seen, anyway.

Clint knew where this was going, as they'd been there often enough before, but Coulson seemed inclined to dance around the matter a little. He was probably worried about Clint's emotional stability or something; _fuck that_ , Clint decided, and he grabbed a fistful of Coulson's uniform front, dragging him in close for a kiss.

Coulson - no, if they were fucking again, Clint had to think of him as _Phil_ \- got the message clearly enough, returning the kiss with enthusiasm (and tongue). Phil spent a few seconds seeming uncertain of what to do with his hands, before settling them on Clint's hips, just above the waistband of his briefs.

Clint was a bit more direct with his own approach, loosening his grip on the front of Phil's uniform so that he could begin unzipping it. The SHIELD jumpsuits were utilitarian, practical in that they peeled right off, and really Clint had never seen anyone whose ass _didn't_ look good in one of them.

Phil being Phil, he waited until they had made it onto the bed, naked, and grinding certain parts together to mutually pleasurable effect to break away from the kiss and say, "Wait."

Clint stopped, pushing himself onto his elbows. "I don't have condoms or lube, but we don't have to -"

"That's not what I meant."

"Okaaay," Clint said slowly.

Phil was the rare guy who could manage to look serious and actually sort of stern even while flushed and naked and sporting an erection; Clint wasn't sure if he thought that was hot or just a little disturbing.

"I want to know," Phil said, "whether we're just ... going to do that thing we usually do."

Clint raised his eyebrows. "You mean that thing where we rip each other's clothes off and have crazy sex and pretend later it didn't happen?"

"That would be the one."

Clint shrugged. "We've already done the first, I'm hoping we're about to get to the second, and as for the third ... well, that's open for discussion."

"I would rather it didn't happen that way this time," Phil said. "Personally and professionally, I feel we're both finally in a place where we could make this work."

"This," Clint repeated. "As in ..."

"Us," Phil said. "I know we haven't had much time for each other, between my assignment and the Avengers re-forming. But I was thinking, earlier."

"Yeah?"

"We're no longer handler and asset," Phil explained. "Meaning that our previous justification for ... distance ... is no longer valid."

Clint snorted. "Come on, Phil. Just say it in plain English: the reason we broke up isn't a problem anymore. Are you saying you want to kiss and make up?"

Phil sighed. "Yes."

"Okay," Clint said simply.

"Okay?"

"Okay," Clint repeated. "Now, can we still have sex?"

Phil rolled his eyes. "Can I take you out to dinner after?"

"Long as you're buying," Clint said. "I have to buy all my food twice around the Tower because the Hulk keeps eating it."

"Right." Phil wrapped his hand around the back of Clint's neck and pulled him in close for a kiss, clearly having had enough of Clint's clumsy attempts to lighten the mood. Neither of them were very good with feelings, though Clint supposed that would eventually have to change, if Phil wanted to pursue some kind of relationship.

(Clint tabled that thought for later discussion.)

Phil was a great kisser, definitely one of the best Clint had ever had the pleasure of practicing with: conscientious, not too aggressive, just the right amount of tongue at just the right moment. Phil kept trying to make it sweet, maybe a little romantic; Clint almost felt bad for taking every opportunity to turn the kisses sloppy and dirty. Almost.

Under the circumstances, it was easy to ... well, not pick up where they left off, but get back to that place. Clint shifted around until they were pressed together again, his erection sliding along the hot, hard length of Phil's cock. It would be better with lube - a lot of things could be improved with addition of something to ease the way - but Clint knew there was none to be found in his cabin, and even though Phil was the kind of guy to come prepared, Clint was reasonably certain Phil wouldn't have any in easy enough reach to bother stopping to get it.

They were able to reach a satisfying enough conclusion, at any rate; Clint would blame harkening back to his teenage years on how quickly he came. Phil made it a little further, but came harder and longer - he spent a lot of time tightly wound and probably needed that.

Clint decided, as he rolled to one side, trying not to crush Phil, that they both had. He spent a moment on his back, staring at the ceiling; they were both breathing hard, like the old guys they had probably turned into while they weren't looking, and Clint _really_ needed to spend some more time hanging around SHIELD, because chilling with a bunch of geniuses and god-like guys could really get a puny mortal's ego down.

"How do you feel about Thai?" Phil wondered, after a moment.

Clint shifted onto his side, propping himself on an elbow to look down at Phil. "You mean that place that's near your place?"

"That's the one."

"Are you asking me to spend the night?" Clint asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Phil sighed, soft and exasperated. "Clint," he said, his patience clearly wearing thin, "I'm _not_ going to spend the next several years clarifying things to you over and over again."

At one time, the thought of _years_ would have sent Clint Barton running for the hills. He supposed that time spent with the Avengers had, at least, taught him a thing or two about responsibility, about putting down roots. Seeing the Circus might have reminded Clint of his difficult past, but at least it made the present ... brighter, somehow.

"Next thing I know," Clint said, "you'll be asking me to move in. _Actually_ , that's not a bad idea, the Tower kinda sucks even if the rent is free -"

Phil whacked him soundly in the face with a pillow; Clint tossed it aside and leaned down for a kiss.

"I'm going to rescind my offer of dinner, if you keep it up," Phil said between kisses.

Clint snorted softly, and rolled out of bed, offering Phil a hand up. "You know what? On second thought, let's hit that Vietnamese place on the way back to the Tower. I think I want to see the look on Stark's face when he finds you drinking OJ out of the carton tomorrow morning."

"I would never drink out of the carton," Phil said primly, heading in the direction of the room's tiny cubicle of a bathroom to clean up. "But I accept your offer. It's a shorter commute to the school."

Clint took that to mean Phil was planning to spend the rest of the weekend, and he knew he could live with that. In fact, he was warming up to the idea of not waking up alone, as strange as it was. At the end of the day, he figured not _all_ things that came back around were so bad.

 

* * *

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written with the assumption that Avengers Assemble and Ultimate Spider-Man take place in the same universe, since they share voice actors, and multiple Avengers have crossed over to USM (including Hawkeye).
> 
> 1x24 sees Clint's backstory, where he was formerly Trickshot in the Circus of Crime, and his brother Barney does not appear to have been around. The implication is that Clint was a teenager when he got mixed up with them, and through a crisis of conscience during a job he ratted them out and was responsible for their arrest by SHIELD. Nick Fury then extended him an offer to join SHIELD, much the same way Spider-Man was recruited.
> 
> Coulson is a supporting player in Ultimate Spider-Man, posing as the principal at Peter's high school, as well as acting in full capacity as a uniformed SHIELD agent at other times. He went on a date with Aunt May, which Clint refers to in this story.


End file.
